


Save The Best Til Last

by DirtyLilGreaseMonkey



Category: Emmerdale, robron
Genre: M/M, Past Loves, Past Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 09:44:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8484583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyLilGreaseMonkey/pseuds/DirtyLilGreaseMonkey
Summary: A look back at Aaron's past loves





	

**Author's Note:**

> My holiday drabbles, enjoy <3

  
When Aaron Livesy was twelve he found a boy that made him feel things he didn't quite understand. His first crush, the boy that lived down the road, the football player who lit his first cigarette for him. He smelt of dirt and wet grass, of late summer nights spent in the park. The boy he wanted to impress so did stupid things to make him laugh, a sound if he closed his eyes tight enough he could still hear.

When Aaron Livesy was seventeen and still confused he fell in love with a boy whose grin was as big as his heart. The boy from up on the farm who smelled like coming home, a place he'd never really had before. A boy who said goodbye by pulling him in for a bear hug, contact he never wanted to end. The first boy he revealed his secret to with a kiss, a kiss that wasn't returned as he had hoped every time he saw him but despite that they remained best friends even though his heart had wanted more and a piece of it would always belong to him, his first love, his farm boy.

When Aaron Livesy was eighteen he found love in the lopsided smile of a cheeky builder. All weathered hands and checkered shirts. The kind caring gentle boy guided him through everything earning him a punch in the process which he didn't deserve yet somehow he still managed to love him. He changed everything with the feel of his coarse hands and his chapped lips. He was the laugh and joke of the party until he wasn't and he was first boy he spoke those three little words to only for him to make the choice to leave, leaving him behind to face the nightmare of his scarred life alone. He still hadn't watched his goodbye.

When Aaron Livesy was nineteen his eyes was caught by a boy who drank wine and played pool at night. A boy who offered something that had disappeared with the builder, a physical connection or the possibility of one. He was all teeth and nose and for a few brief nights he helped him forget his troubles. But the thing with his troubles was however much beer he drank eventually he had to close his eyes or open them in this case and his living nightmare always found a way to creep back in.

When Aaron Livesy was twenty he was swept off his feet by a nice boy who drank beer and walked with his chin up and his hands in his pockets. His skin was the colour of coffee layered in mud and rain. He played rugby and made him think anything was possible. He had muscles in all the right places and enough love for the both of them and at the time he was just what was needed, strong, stable, offering an escape, a chance to see the world but also the opportunity to protect his first love and he took it without a second thought. However good it felt he knew in his heart it wasn't real. It didn't last, when it came to him nothing ever did but in the end it was a relief and the longest relationship he'd ever had.

It wasn't until Aaron Livesy was twenty three years old that he truly fell in love. It was with a tall smart mouthed boy with hair the colour of sand and eyes the colour of icicles on a summers day. A boy that drank whiskey, liked the feel of the amber liquid as it burnt the back of his throat. The first time they kissed it was like a gust of wind and a sigh of relief. But with the relief came suffering because the boy could never be his. He was an arrogant man who thought of no one but himself, who took all he had to offer but gave nothing in return. He was a good liar, made him forget that his skin was my his own and didn't belong to him. Over the years the blonde had built walls up so high that he spent months trying to scale them and when he'd finally made it the walls crumbled leaving them both broken and bruised. No good could come from loving a man like him and yet he did. He thought he'd loved before, the farm boy, the builder, the rugby player in his own way, but nothing compared to this. All consuming, heart racing, pupil dilating, butterflies in the pit of your stomach scratching the back of your throat kind of love. Some days he hated it, hated that the blonde made him work for it, but when he got it in return, heard those words spoken from the sharpest tongue he'd ever known he relished in it. For the blondes love made him feel strong not weak, important not forgotten, guilty, yes for surpassing anything he'd ever felt before. He took his breath away every time he walked into a room and made his heart beat ten times faster whenever he took his hand in his and that smile, more of half smile made him weak at the knees and he knew without a doubt whatever this man asked of him he'd do it just to have him by his side. For this was the man he falls in a little bit more in love with every single day.

When Aaron Dingle was twenty five and looked at the tall blonde who stood by him despite countless efforts to push him away, a man whose hand fit perfectly in his he realised he'd finally found his forever.


End file.
